New World
by Autumn Win-Dow
Summary: It was as if overnight, when she slept, the world would recreate itself into something entirely different and serve to her on a golden platter a new world.


_**New World**_

**by Autumn Win-Dow**

(AoGA House Cup. Words: 1066)

* * *

Mikan was a woman who was forced to live on assumptions.

Every day, she lived with the dread of knowing nobody around her. Due to this, she couldn't work, she couldn't go to outings, and she couldn't survive the day without crying herself to sleep every night. Every single face she saw was a new one – someone of whom she thought she hadn't met once in her life.

A completely different face from the ones she had seen in her twenty three years.

It was as if she was – despite her unwillingness to communicate – an extreme social butterfly, and that she was successfully meeting new people every day.

But it was this very reason why Mikan was absolutely disgusted with herself every morning – she was ashamed of how she acted, and how she communicated to those many people. She found herself as the epitome of cringe worthy.

Every morning, she would wake up in a stranger's bed. Even though most of the time, she had her clothes on – and so did he – she would freak out and wonder how she ended up in this man's bed. She couldn't recall at all if she had been drunk the previous night, and she was never one for partying.

If busy streets bothered her conscious enough, then crowded clubs would be the death of her. She was sure that she hadn't entered a club the previous night – therefore her confusion as to how she was in bed with this stranger arose every morning.

Sometimes, she did wake up without a single garment on. Mikan would feel ashamed and disgusted with herself for being so flagrant, as she looks at herself in the mirror with an expression of immense shame.

_You're a whore! Tramp!_

She could predict what the people around her would say if they found out about her antics.

In the end, all the men she had slept with understood her tears, and they were the ones who comforted her despite being involved and guilty themselves.

As they comforted Mikan, she found the voices of all of them very similar – they all sounded like they cared.

But eventually, she would forget about the men who reassured her about the positives every morning, and once again she would repeat the process the next day – Mikan would discover, and she would wail because of her daily tragedy.

Mikan loved the sound of people's voices. By not having to look at the reality and hear only what people want to reveal would allow her to make attempts to revert to the better days – when she was innocent and naïve about the harsh reality of life. Sometimes, she wanted to simply go blind – to her, what she saw in the world was just as bad as being blind.

She didn't understand anything at all. She questioned whether there was actually a difference between being blind and being Mikan Sakura.

Mikan was always taken on outings with a large group of more strangers. However, when they talked about things which happened in their lives, she was surprised to find that she actually understood what they were talking about. It was as if she was _there _during the moments which they reminisced, and eventually she would realise that in fact, she _did _know these people.

She felt connected to them, somehow. As you listened to them talk, you somehow felt a strange familiarity with them.

It was slight, but it was there.

But despite this, she never felt like she completely belonged in this world of strangers.

She always heard them talking about her as if she wasn't there – they somehow knew about her problems and discussed how problematic it was in front of her. Mikan had no clue as to how they knew about her scandalous nature, and already she wanted to curl into a ball and hide from the world.

Also, there was something which always reminded her that she wasn't like the people she met every day – that there was a subtle, unseen difference between them and her.

Mikan found it absolutely ironic that when it was her view of the world which tortured her every day, the problem was something which no one else could actually _see._

Mikan Sakura looked like a completely normal twenty three year old, living in the metropolis of Tokyo.

But unlike the other citizens in the same city, she suffered in a world where she didn't know anyone – where she would never see a face she was able to recognise ever again.

Every day, it was an unknown world full of unknown people – and they all watched her every move, knowing exactly who Mikan Sakura was and what was wrong with her. It was as if overnight, when she slept, the world would recreate itself into something entirely different and serve to her on a golden platter _a new world_.

Every morning, she had to start over from scratch by meeting these new people, of whom in fact she had already met the previous day.

People she didn't recognise would enter her house without her permission, and would use her kitchen, bathroom and bedroom the way they wished to. Every time it happened, she couldn't help but feel insecure until she eventually closes her eyes – only listening to their voices.

Only listening to what she should know – and listening to what she knew already.

Mikan adored the power of the voice and how it could convey things which she wouldn't be able to understand if she used her eyes, and only her eyes.

_If I actually became blind… then I wouldn't be like this. I'd lose one of my senses, but that sense is pretty much useless for me anyway. I would only have to depend on my ability to hear, and by doing that, people wouldn't need to set me as their everyday focal point._

…_I hate this. I hate not having a choice._

"I'm home."

"…"

"Are you alright?"

"…Who are you?! And what are you doing in my house?!"

"Shh… it's me. Natsume. Your husband."

"…I'm so sorry. I should have known. I should have just recognised your voice."

* * *

**_pros·o·pag·no·sia /präsəpagˈnōZH(ē)ə/_**

**_noun. An inability to recognize the faces of familiar people, typically as a result of damage to the brain._**


End file.
